#I’m really putting this poor man through the wringer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mmoxie · 11 months

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Part 10 - Bounce

The Xerox Alto was a piece of shit. A revolutionary piece of shit, but just the same, with its vertical screen and crackling boot-beeps and grey-gone-beige-gone-yellow patina, it looked pathetic in ways that Dani found a little adorable. Thrift store adorable, flea mall adorable. Scoop the guts out and make it a fishtank, that kind of thing.

Craig thought it was the most important device he owned. He navigated the primitive interface as if visiting an old friend, so familiar with their life and their home that he could pick out the bathroom without asking. He cracked his hairy knuckles and pushed his bifocals up tight against his face, then flashed Dani the grin of a much younger, much less responsible man.

“You know how long she’s -snif- been waiting for a reason to come out of retirement?”

Dani gave Craig a sympathetic shrug, hands in her apron pockets. She still hadn’t undressed from work- today, with Seebs and Vinny safely stowed on the houseboat with a rerun of M.A.S.H. to keep them at peace- she had sped away from Turtlebees’ and wiped enough burger wrappers and empty paycheck envelopes out of the passenger seat to make room for Craig.

They were leaving Fish Camp for a while, braving the winding roads around Yosemite in search of a place somehow more remote than their humble town with its population of forty-three.

They drove with the sun at their back, illuminating the craggy, layered face of Iron Mountain as they bore east toward a site that Craig insisted would be necessary.

“Roosevelt got his picture taken there, y’know,” he said, helping himself to a bag of chips from the back seat. “You could try having fun with this, Dani. Take a few snapshots when we get there, huh?”

Dani leaned over the wheel and squinted at the road. Work hadn’t been going well lately- the fatigue was starting to set in. Turtlebees’ was supposed to be a cover gig, not a full-time responsibility she was meant to care about. She was tired of being Gina Lincoln, especially after having to firmly turn down Redd Lake and watch all his good will dry up when he realized he wasn’t getting laid. It kept her dreading work, and she already didn't really want to be there. –But turning him down had made the distance she needed to keep him alive. One push in the wrong place and the poor bastard would have been fit for the ashtray.

“Craig, what if we find out there’s no getting a grip on this?”

“Huh?”

“You said yourself, it’s not like we can expect to find something good at the center of whatever’s happening to me. What if we can’t find a way to put a cork in it?”

She flit her cigarette against the little cup she bought at the general store. No tossing butts in Yosemite. That would be a little much. Craig was quiet for a few, crunching chips and flipping over the Steely Dan tape they were playing before replying.

Drink Kirschwasser from a shell,

“Dani, I’m not gonna turn you in,”

San Francisco show and tell,

“I mean, hell, the idea of getting in front of cops after the life I’ve lead… I’d just as soon take my ass back to Peru. I’ve thought about it, too,”

Well I should know by now, that it’s just a spasm,

“But you should know, I’m about as qualified as it gets on this kind of shit. The intersection of planar, scalar, esoteric, geometric, signal and sympathetic, nobody put those concepts through the wringer like we did. Like I did,”

Like a Sunday in T.J., that it’s cheap but it’s not free,

“And I can do it again. When we get there, I’ll use the Alto to show you sides of yourself you can’t even perceive. It’s like living without mirrors, you know? How the fuck’ll you know what to do with your hair if you can’t see it?”

That I’m not what I used to be…

In the shadow of Globe Rock, Dani popped the hood of the Taurus and Craig lashed together a handful of junky converters until the Alto and the battery could have a conversation. The old, discolored machine creaked to life, and Craig hitched a number of homemade devices to it- a telescopic six-foot aerial, some sort of clamp made out of brass or gold covered in carved gargoyles fit to the edge of the keyboard, a gyroscope of some sort that bolted to the side of the screen and housed a pale blue gem- aquamarine, Dani guessed.

“Whew- okay. We’re going somewhere dark, but be gentle with yourself, alright? I already told you I’m no shrink, so if you go spiraling, well… the best I’ll be able to do is a ride home and a cold beer.” He squatted over the keyboard, the whole assembly perched on the flattest and nearest stump, and began opening programs authored by himself and his comrades half a century ago.

“Close your eyes and… do what you gotta do. Aerial is reporting one, two, three pings- you’ll be the fourth, and we can quadrangulate from there.” He flicked the gyroscope with his thumb, then closed his hand over the strange gold fixture on the keyboard and shut his eyes. “Latency’s pretty high. Once we get the linkage we need, just one or two baud should do us, but until we get it, it’ll be slow going.”

Dani nodded her way through Craig’s advice, but she wasn’t listening. She stared up at Globe Rock- ancient, ominous, and just as sure about this as she was. Her hands trembled as she raised them to the smooth, round surface and exhaled. Four seconds in, four seconds out- no fire yet. Good.

She closed her eyes tight enough that she couldn’t see the orange glow of sunset, and let herself drift backward into her own mind.

She saw Redd, and Sean, and Mike. She saw her mother, and saw Gina- the real Gina, from the lotto counter at Wilson Titlee.

That fucking store. Everything had started to fade, but suddenly she was right there again, gritting her teeth across the desk in the HR office, remembering how even as she questioned and quipped, her mind was reeling with actual problems the company might solve instead of stupid bullshit like this.

They pushed and pushed and pushed- Dani do this, Dani lift that, Dani can you pick up some overtime? Dani we’ve got a walk tomorrow, think you can stay long enough to finish this project?

They had ASKED for the very same labor she was being punished for! All she did was agree!

Mike… god, dude, you didn’t deserve it. If you had just waited long enough for them to call you, say you weren’t getting me back for a few days… none of this would’ve happened. If they hadn’t called me in for the suspension, none of this would’ve happened. And if that hadn’t happened, young skinheads everywhere wouldn’t have lost their stupid online role model. But she wasn’t supposed to live that kind of life! She was fine just punching clock, moving furniture, and going home to watch old movies with Seebs.

Wait, no I’m not. No, that fucking sucks too! I wasn’t content, I was too tired to move!

She was suddenly engulfed in a vicious eruption of fire- a ten foot pillar of flame reached into the evening sky past Globe Rock, then settled until it wicked from her shoulders and rolled down her back like a mane. Somewhere outside the angry depths of her psyche, Craig barked a triumphant little laugh under his bristly white mustache and clacked at the keyboard.

You don’t watch shit like Cleopatra Wong unless you’re numb to every other kind of stimulation in the world. I was dead. They killed me. Wilson Titlee fucking killed me!

The cloak of flame flared again, and this time when it settled, it clung to Dani like a bright, destructive aura. It was wild, burning the edges of her flapping apron, but she somehow willed it not to climb. That’s when she heard the second ping- and the clicking again- the device measuring “Zeners” was protruding from Craig’s back pocket, and it was hissing and popping like fryer oil.

She didn’t realize she had moved, or that she was looking at him. Her vision was wreathed in orange and gray, smoke pouring from her with every step. She hated that it didn’t smell bad.

“Redlining again. Christ over rice, redlining again. Sixty zeen, maybe more, no way of telling since the gauge doesn’t go that high,” Craig was muttering. He gripped his belt and hitched his pants a bit, then retrieved the multi-dimensional Geiger counter from his pocket and shut it off.

“Yeah, yeah. We know now. Big zeens. Strong reading, at least. Gremlins were getting hot, almost lost my grip. –Dani, are you alright? Our upload’s going- if you can just maintain this for a few, it'll complete its route and bounce back. Need a consistent data stream until then.”

Every muscle in her body was painfully tense, and her skin was taut and ached, sunburnt under her own corona of flame. She crouched to get level with Craig and saw herself- a silhouette at the center of a bonfire- reflected in his bifocals.

He wasn’t afraid, and that was something. She felt so strange- sick, sick with anger, like the only way to quench this feeling of ultimate violence in her heart was to take hold and vomit her white-hot agony into the first thing that moved. But that was just it- he wasn’t moving. Didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even -snif-.

“When we get the bounceback, grab that artifact we generated. The weird little nametag.”

“Ain’t that… s’posed to hurt me?” Dani’s breathing was labored, and tongues of flame curled up between her teeth, graying them all over again.

“It’s dangerous. But like we talked about, it’s an on switch. If we want it to be anything else, we’ve got to get it entangled with this pit of yours.”

“Do I need- gnh- to do anything else?”

“Look behind you.” He kept his left hand tight on the golden fixture, while his right hand fluttered across stiff old keys. “Fifteen tons of igneous granite. The Mono people used to gather here. Fresno Dome isn’t too far off either.”

“Why are you telling me this stuff, man?”

“’Cause I want you to think about it. First the Mono, doing what they do. They had an interesting diet, I’d like to try it myself. Then Roosevelt, probably sitting astride some big bastard of a horse and yukking it up about what he heard at the last Masons dinner. They were drawn here.”

“Uh-huh.” It hurt. God, it hurt. How long could it take for a signal to bounce around?

“And in 1961, Frank Hoyle turned up here with a suitcase full of ill-gotten lottery winnings and spoke to god.”

“What?”

“Frank was never one of us. Came up from Kentucky- we all already lived out this way. But we were still on campus, and before we ever got the work started, he was here, just like Roosevelt, and just like the Mono, and he made first contact before we made our first payment on the Alto.”

Dani’s head was swimming. She groaned and set her hands on the enormous stone, hoping to find her balance before she burnt up entirely. The Taurus’s radio seemed to turn itself up. When had they put Abba in?

There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando…

“We talk a lot about axes and fixed points, especially in this line of work. Beaver Math, extraplanar condensation, fussy atomics, Clairvoyant Klondike… but that’s just vocabulary words. You want the hard truth of it, Dani?”

“God, shut up,” she slurred, pressing her forehead against the rock.

They were shining there for you and me, for liberty, Fernando…

And then he was gone. Everything but his voice, but he wasn’t attached to it anymore.

She stood on a plinth under a dome of darkness, casting her orange glow into a gray expanse with nothing in it but low fog that clung to the pale, smooth ground.

“You’ve been everywhere,” Craig echoed. His voice came from high up, as if the dome she stood under was the cone of a giant speaker. “Back and forth, up and down, in and out. Then and now, here and there.”

In this strange isolation, staring at her own glow reflected on the fog, she felt bile rise in her throat, the acid reflux of anger unattended and left to curdle. She wanted to speak, but felt like she’d vomit- just as she had with Mike. Every part of her resisted the urge, toes curling in her boots, hands clawing into the fabric of her apron.

His meaning dawned on her only when she stepped down from the plinth.

She had been here. In the dark. Standing in the shadow of a greater self, agglomerated of moments- ugly moments, hurtful moments, moments of shame and failure and inadequacy, all crammed down, down, down, so that she could build up an easy façade, 'take it all in stride,' and so on.

Why had she done that? So people would like her more?

They fuckin’ didn’t!

The fog began to clear as she grew hotter, brighter.

The only people who made friends with her were just as aggrieved, just as angry, and just as impotent.

That word stung her from the inside, and her flame grew angrier, revealing more of the dark dome.

A face loomed over her, etched into the stone. It was angular, androgynous, lined with age and lopsidedly amused. It didn’t move. It did abide. There was a magnetism to it- spiritually it was animate, even if it wasn’t physically.

The face of god.

Looks kinda like Marlene Dietrich, in Garden of Allah. –Didn’t Cyndi Lauper watch that movie in a music video?

“You made it,” the face intoned easily. The voice was deep and cool, but not unkind.

“Time After Time,” she answered, a little stupidly.

“Did you know Lou Albano was in that video? Played her father.”

“The wrestler?”

“He spent more time as a manager,” the face answered.

“I’ll be damned. Did you know she was-“

“Crying for real in the video?” They both said. Suddenly Dani hurt a little less. The face laughed.

“Alright. Okay. Are you Craig?”

“No, yes.”

“Aw, come on.”

“This doesn’t happen very often. I gotta get my kicks in somewhere.”

“So are you god?”

“Not really. Not the one they hope I am, anyway.”

Dani felt the corner of her mouth hitch in a grin. She didn’t realize it, but she was matching the amused expression of the face before her.

“Do I get to ask which one you are?”

“You can ask anything, Dani.”

“Alright. Can I smoke?”

“You shouldn’t, but sure. I’ve had a few nicknames. I like to tell people I’m Indrid Cold, but you’re a little too close to all this for that to work on you, huh?”

Dani lit a cigarette against the palm of her steadily-burning hand and took a long drag. “I mean, call yourself what you want, but if I’d think you’re hiding something- yeah, with that name, I would.”

“So call me Mangala, or Neto, or Bahram, or Lenus.”

“How long is this going to go on, Neto?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

Ah. Until I die.

“Could be a while. But you’re not a chosen one, and you’re also not a monster. You came close, the night you roasted young Sean, but he’ll come around again.”

“Well, if I’m not a monster, then what is?”

“Someone who likes it. Let’s face it, Dani, you do enough self-flagellating to sit the table at any old monastery you like. If you weren’t so cynical, you’d make a hell of a crusader.”

They both laughed at that.

“So what do I do?”

“What can any of us do?”

“Come on, man. Again?”

“Listen, you want answers. I get it. But you and I are in motion, right now. It always goes, it never stops. Ask your man Craig about that ‘langolier mechanism’ he’s so enthused about sometime. You try to pump the brakes, you get rear-ended.”

“So I never get to rest?”

“Not until you realize that resting and running are the same thing. –But with the way you go through old movies, I think you have a pretty good idea of that already.”

Dani sighed and gave the face a long look.

“Neto, Craig’ll kill me if I don’t ask while I’m here—”

“There’s a lot that man shouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, but…”

“You can tell him he’s right about the Nazca lines, but he’s on his own from there.”

“Are you two like, not cool?”

“It’s not like that. He just sucks all the fun out of everything. He’s kind of a math pervert. I’m sure there’s a lot of joy to be had in measuring the spokes of the Big Wheel or knowing the thread count of the Easy Chair’s upholstery, but that’s a joy I can never understand. It’s not an enlightened kind of joy. The man’s a real profligate.”

They regarded each other in vague agreement for a while.

“We should probably cut to the chase,” Dani eventually said. “There’s something wrong with me. You can, uh… see the fire.”

“I won’t tell you it’s a good sign. But I’ll also tell you that gunning for control is a mistake. You were striking on something interesting the other night, during Star Trek.”

Jeez, it knows about how I spend my nights. Kinda puts me on the spot.

“The thing about learning to like it?”

“Not it, Dani. Remember, you’ve been everywhere.”

And then its voice was gone, and Abba was back.

If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando…

“Dani! Holy jeez, what the hell happened? I got the bounceback just now. You looked… you were gone, it was just fire standing there!”

Dani shuddered and ran her hands over her apron. Still intact. A little singed. Same with the woman underneath it.

“Did you- you’re right about the Nazca lines,” Dani blurted, suddenly losing her balance. She caught herself on the plinth beneath the giant stone and coughed up a mouthful of wet ash.

“The Nazca lines?” Craig blinked and adjusted his glasses. “What happened to you?”

“I thought you were pushin’ me toward that, with all your talk of Roosevelt and… the native folks, and whoever the fuck,”

“Hoyle. I was just trying to get you into a significant kind of mood, I didn’t plan for you to vanish! Where’d you go?”

“Honestly, Craig, I’m starting to think I went in.”

“In the rock?!”

“Yeah.”

“It’s solid granite!”

“Yeah.”

“…Yeah?”

“I think I did some Buckaroo Banzai shit. –Man, I’m still on fire, are we good? I feel like I’m gonna barf. I can’t turn it off once it’s going.”

“Signal’s strong and steady. Think you can stand up straight? –And to the East, you’ll want to cast your shadow ahead of you. Good frame of reference.”

Craig leaned into the driver’s-side window of the Taurus and flicked on the high-beams. Dani wobbled a bit, but turned away, and set her gaze on a shadow that stretched forward, deforming over the massive stone sphere.

“The Alto is about to produce a tone. When it does, close your eyes and think of… something really fundamental you can follow. Smoke on the Water, or uh… Billie Jean. Something you know by heart, okay?”

The old computer began to produce a strange tone. It was high, but it also hissed, and something underneath it seemed to pulse and thrum in a way that made her feel even sicker.

So she closed her eyes and sang.

“You could have a steam train,

If you’d just lay down your tracks,

You could have an aeroplane, flying,

If you bring your blue sky back,”

When she opened her eyes, her shadow had in some way peeled from her, no longer attached at the boots. It stood on the front of the stone, a hole in the headlight beams, eye-line equal with hers. She forced herself not to recoil from it.

“I wanna be, your sledgehammer,

Why don’t you call my name?

Ah! Let me be your sledgehammer,

This will be my testimony,”

It slid away from the surface of Globe Rock toward her- not hovering, not floating, sliding, like an abacus bead, on an axle that she couldn’t see. As it drew closer, she could see the time shear, the so-called langolier mechanism, damaging it. The edges frayed when they should have grown clearer. She opened her mouth to speak, and it opened its mouth to speak.

Fire poured into it from Dani’s open mouth. She clenched her fists as it boiled up unbidden. Her hatred for herself was dragonbreath, compressed plumes pummeling the ragged shadow, a stream of deadly white-orange trying again and again to make it disappear under light and heat.

But it wouldn’t. It was her, and she was here. And she had been everywhere.

It sang back to her.

“All you do is call me,

I’ll be anything you need,”

The song was infectious. Steady in her head. Peter Gabriel. ’86.

She reached out to herself. Laced burning fingers with solid shadow.

Reflections reflecting reflections. A two-dimensional shadow, half of a four-dimensional being.

It suddenly fell into her arms, a swooning dancer, weak and weary, dizzy and delighted. She could feel it shiver and sob in silence, the deep pit of her aching hatred and repressed miseries brought to bear in a way she finally had to confront.

It was her. And seeing it like this, unable to hold itself up under the weight of all these burdens, she felt her heart break at the sight of herself.

She had let Dani down.

She lifted her manifest shadow by the chin and kissed it, deeply, filling it with a smooth, steady exhale of living fire. It began to vanish, but she could feel it there, clinging to her, reattaching, coming ever closer. She didn’t dare pull away- not until it was gone, not until it was so close that it was her again, until it knew it was going to be safe. That she wouldn’t leave it. That it wasn’t all for nothing.

She numbly remembered the nametag as her fire began to die. She scooped it up from the top of the Alto’s awkward vertical screen and held it tight in her hand.

She felt her shadow holding it from the other side of reality and understood.

“I’ll take care of you,” she said. “We’ll be alright.”

If there was anything more to say, she couldn’t get a grip on it. She began to fade, and then collapsed in the headlight beams, unconscious.

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#IPYIHGU #dani from my bullshit #this one's a doozy

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superectojazzmage · 11 months

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Okay, so review for Across The Spider-Verse

In short, it was exactly as amazing as hoped, arguably more so.

Absolutely brilliant writing, direction, animation, acting, everything. Takes everything the first movie did right and improves on it while pruning out its tiny few flaws. Continues to truly capture the spirit and feel of the comics and staying as faithful to them as possible while still doing it’s own thing. Demonstrates a remarkable understanding of the character of Spider-Man and his mythos. Genuine and earnest in all the right ways, never demeans or sneers at the source material but rather lavishes it with the love and respect it deserves. Just incredible work from everyone involved.

Some specific notes:

The acting is great. Oscar Isaac and Jason Schwartzman in particular are PERFECT and steal the show as Miguel O’Hara and the Spot. The returning actors like Shameik Moore, Jake Johnson, and Hailee Steinfeld get to really show off their chops.

The humor and drama are balanced even better in this film than in the first one. The down moments hit harder, the jokes get even bigger laughs, and they never step on one another’s toes.

The action scenes are fantastic just like in the first film. Incredible and very creative fights all around.

Animators REALLY like to show off. The first film’s experimenting with different art styles gets taken up to eleven here. Lots of crazy visuals and elaborate changes in look and feel from world to world while still keeping the same broad “vibe”, and they even delve into some Roger Rabbit-esque territory. It’s really impressive. That said, just like the first film, there are some scenes that can get really literally flashy and strobing, so be aware of that if you’re especially sensitive to flashing lights. I don’t think there’s anything that’d cause issues, but just a head’s up.

The writing for the Spot was great; they closely follow his arc from the comics of starting out as a dorky, incompetent joke villain and then evolving into a terrifyingly ruthless and vindictive monster with absolutely broken powers and it’s really well done, like a bizarro inversion of an anime “hero trains to get stronger” storyline. He’s definitely one of the big highlights and was a great pick for villain.

Peter B. is everything Spider-Man should be and his relationship with Mary Jane and baby Mayday are another major highlight. Marvel editors on life support.

Miles and Gwen both get really great character arcs themselves. Poor Miles really gets put through the wringer.

Miguel is spectacularly well-done, just the right balance of sympathetic, charismatic hero and total grouchy asshole, just like he was in the comics.

Spider-Punk is a Giga-Chad.

Jessica Drew is a weird outlier in that she’s not very faithful to the comics version and the points where she IS accurate are based off one of her worst runs, in total contrast to everyone else. I feel like she was maybe meant to be a different character and got reworked into Jessica for some reason mid-production, or maybe that they had to completely alter her to use her. That being said, as a functionally new character, she’s pretty cool. Issa Rae does a good job and her design totally fucks.

The overall plot is partly a really brilliant meta commentary on Marvel’s treatment of Spider-Man Post-OMD with middle fingers fully extended at Spider-Editorial and I’m living for it. There’s also some clear commentary on the nature of adaptations and what Spider-Man as a character stands for, amongst many other things. Some very dense and heavy themes underpinning the narrative, but none of it is intrusive and you don’t need any prior knowledge aside from watching the first film.

You can REALLY tell that this and Beyond The Spider-Verse were one giant script split into two movies, because the ending is honestly pretty abrupt feeling, though it’s made pretty clear that this is just Part 1 and Part 2 will pick up from right there, so as long as you’re aware of that it’s okay. It’s a massive cliffhanger.

All in all, we walked out of the theater EXTREMELY impressed and very hyped for the next film. This was a wonderful movie that really captured the essence of not just Spider-Man but Marvel Comics as a whole. 10/10 would recommend.

#across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spider man #spiderman #marvel #marvel comics #marvel universe #films #movie review #movies #comics #comic books #phil lord #christopher miller #LORD AND MILLER SWEEP

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dogwittaablog · 5 months

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You opened this can of sardines for me the topic of employed Nolan/what is he gonna do now. Buckle in Buckaroos as I spout some nonsense.

1. He can go work for the NHL (kinda unlikely at this point imo). Despite not being able to play he seems to actually enjoy hockey still. His dad back in his early career had always said that he was a very analytical watcher, replaying parts of games over and over again to figure out what they were doing. I can see him somewhat settling behind a bench as a playmaker, and being a little shit about it. Like making the most annoying but legal plays. I can also see him becoming a bit of an advocate for players and head injuries considering what he's had to go through.

Even if not directly behind the bench or in the NHL there is a possibility for him to work with a smaller team or a more behind the scenes role. It would be private enough for him I feel.

2. Hunting (more likely). Even in pre NHL interviews he constantly brought up his love for the wilderness and hunting and possibly being a hunting guide. This I feel is the most likely possibility. Opening like a little Patrick's hunting guides venture. If I'm being a bit more optimistic and whimsical, an actual hunting store to sell supplies.

This might also mean more social media pat as he promotes himself. He's an advocate for ethical hunting and consuming so I can see him pushing that angle and teaching about how to respect and use the animals.

3. He has a tiktok, "Why the flyers can eat my ass (NHL exposed) Part 1 of 12.

4. Joins Mt. Joy (this is the crack fic one). He's close to the band, can play guitar. Why not? Write a few songs for them, date their pianist (I think that's her role?) Would b cute.

Sorry for rambling, but I do genuinely hope he ends up okay in the end and settles down well after everything he's been through. He doesn't seem like a bad guy and holy fuck has he been put through the wringer. I want him to be okay and succeed in something and not have everything he does be over analyzed by everyone ya know.

(Imma tack this on at the end, I agree at what he was getting with with the mailloux thing cause Trudeau absolutely sucks, but my god man has poor wording choices.)

Hahahaha living for the in detail post! Feel free to ramble I’m all ears.

I think jumping in an NHL job after what he had to go through would be pouring salt on an open wound, for now at least. Realistically it’d be a solid real job to have, tho it’s probably still gonna be way too much attention for him even if it’s behind the scenes. It’d give people too much to talk about. Would be pre sweet if he even took up coaching for a local team, whatever age really.

Please if dude was desperate for money or just to do something I was even thinking how he would probably debate joining his dad in real estate and work for him 😭😭😭😭

Don’t think money is an issue tho, cause he gives me vibes he’s pretty frugal and just living life lmao. Also Manitoba isn’t the most expensive place to live in to what I’m aware of.

Conclusion I really don’t think hes finding a job that’s about $$$ but something he enjoys and what he aligns with, so the hunting and fishing guide is 100% Though he has so many resources to branch out in multiple things.

#my dudes main priority is just finding himself you cannot tell me otherwise #hunting and fishing everyday #his dream #we all know he hates attention good or bad lmao #so even if he got a job in the nhl or even a smaller league #he’d probably be getting asked way too many questions #He’d probably be like k bro this isn’t Philly media leave me alone #I stg if he took up an NHL job it’s probably have to be 15 years from now when ppl fully forget about him #hahah also yeah I agree #If he was actually petty enough and it was acceptable #he’d do a tell all airing out Philly fans and the whole flyers organization #and that one interviewer that always hounded him #I’m rambling #sorry #nolan patrick #nolpat #ask #dec '23 subs

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jolie-goes-downton · 2 years

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The thing is, people who like Thomas’ story in DA2 keep saying “Thomas has always taken control of his fate and been proactive, and he’s doing it again now”, but actually, JF has given Thomas a terrible track record when it comes to proactively “taking control of his life”. Yes, he’s always fallen on his feet somehow, but only at a terrible price! Volunteering to go to war rather than being fired (survived but paid for with PTSD) - Blighty wound (survived but paid for with mortal fear/permanent disfigurement/possibly disability) - Black market scheme (survived but paid for with loss of savings and a good deal of self-respect) - Jimmy kiss disaster (survived but paid for with horrible verbal abuse from Carson and being beaten bloody at the Thirsk fair) - CYOP “therapy” (survived but paid for with physical illness and increased depression), leaving Downton for new butler job (survived but paid for with painful farewells, loneliness and isolation) … every time, EVERY TIME Thomas tried to better his life, he’s survived but been whumped for it beyond belief, both physically and emotionally. So where does people‘s certainty come from that the Guy Dexter arrangement is going to be the one time when Thomas will be allowed by the writer to break the toxic pattern?

As a matter of fact, we already know that the pattern continues! Any happiness Thomas may find with Dexter in LA will just come at a terrible price again - leaving his homeland, giving up his respectable job (which is his livelihood as well as a source of pride), leaving the children, leaving the house that’s been the only home he’s known all his adult life, leaving behind the only (!) friends he has (or, even if you think he was never really friends with anyone at Downton anyway, still the only people he knows and who know and tolerate him, since he appears to have no contacts outside Downton at all except for Richard)… He’s paying the price already even before he boards his ship. (And, you know, “I gave up everything I had in order to be with you” isn’t an ideal basis for a healthy relationship, either - it’ll be a miracle if that aspect won’t rear its ugly head again and again whenever things get rocky between them. Even with the best intentions on both sides, that’s enough strain to make any relationship fold and crumble.)

Why can’t Thomas just have good things, without having to struggle and labour and compromise both his physical and his mental health for them and make enormous sacrifices? THAT would be the happy ending Thomas deserves, and as far as I’m concerned, according to canon he STILL hasn’t got it. Not so much because we don’t know yet how exactly things will work out between Dexter and him, but because of what he’s had to give up for him already. Just leave the poor man in peace, all right?

I mean, if you LIKE the idea of Thomas getting whumped over and over again, that’s fine! Lots of us enjoy whumps and heavy angst and putting our favourite character through the wringer. But in that case, please at least admit that you prefer this to an unadulterated fairytale ending, and don’t pretend that’s what he’s just got.

Also, needless to say, the narrative of the show itself definitely contains one instance where, if the writer had had the guts or the generosity to do it, there WAS the promise of a fairytale ending on the horizon, without any narrative necessity to couple it with yet another dose of crippling pain. Are there any other plausible explanations for throwing that out of the window than either a) ignorance/indifference/incompetence, b) malice/resentment or c) latent homophobia?

(I‘ll try and tag thoughts like this #jolie rants, so if this is not what you come to my blog for, you can filter it out.)

#da2 spoilers #downton abbey 2 #downton abbey a new era #downton abbey 2 spoilers #downton abbey a new era spoilers #thomas barrow #thomas barrow da2 meta #jolie rants

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topazadine · 2 years

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A lot of people who never suffered from domestic violence do not understand how absolutely vindicating it is to watch Johnny Depp get his day in court, backed up by solid evidence and expert testimony.

This is likely a lot of the reason why you’re seeing a proliferation of compilation/reaction videos where people are dunking on Amber Heard. Many of us are so viciously hating on Amber because she reminds us of our own abusers. No one believed us or protected us so it’s incredibly powerful to see someone else be believed, be heard, get to tell his side of the story.

Certainly I see a lot of parallels to my abuser in her behavior, and seeing people tear this awful woman a new one feels, in a way, like getting to scream at my abuser and tell him what an awful garbage excuse of a man he is. It’s exactly the same reason why some people like true crime content in general: getting people see justice for the crimes committed to them, in a way, feels like justice for the crimes that were done against us.

Yes, some of those compilation and reaction vids are probably treating it as basic popcorn entertainment, which sucks but that’s what happens when pretty much anything is highly publicized. Some people are just insensitive and forget that these are real-life people. But I know for a fact that some of them are people who went through domestic violence in their own lives and are now beyond happy to see at least one abuser get put through the wringer. I’m honestly following the case only from those perspectives (Boze vs. The World is one of my go-tos) because I absolutely cannot stand how pro-Amber some of the more mainstream media is, and I’m certain that her publicist pulled strings at a number of major publications to ensure that she sounds like a poor widdle victim.

Anyway, if you’re not a DV survivor you cannot really understand why we get so fired up about this in a way that might seem nigh-on maniacal. It might seem rather vile, but you know what? What was done to us was far worse, and if there’s a God I think they can forgive us for wishing Amber fell down ten flights of stairs with 80 cartons of eggs in her hands.

#johnny depp #amber heard #domestic violence

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thenamesblurrito · 2 years

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askadskf look Assimilation!Soundwave isn't very smart but his heart is huge and he loves everybody. He's the definition of a himbo honestly. Whirl loves him very much and sits soundwave on his lap when soundwave is upset.

Like "omg soundwave :( how can i help?" but it unfortunately does get worse when soundwave is informed that he used to be two other people, with a family. And that those people more or less vanished to let him exist, and maybe they didn't want to disappear, what about their family? Do they miss those two? The next time he sees any of the other tripredacus kids while just, anywhere honestly, he looks at whirl, who gives a teeny tiny nod, and he shakes like a leaf. He's trying to keep it together man.

Also, Shockwave really just can't catch a break either, silently vibrating because there is so much happening all the time and he just needs to check himself out for the day. Forgetting to check-back in at lunch and eat, and at the end of the day being like "why do i feel terrible? oh. haha yeah."

Bonus! Wasp detaching his hand to hide it places and scare people. Only people he trusts obviously, like Ironhide who'd give it back, or Starscream who would probably scream about it, but also would give it back. If he lost his hand he'd just start to freak out like "AW FRAG AAAAAAA"

man you just keep putting these poor guys through the wringer

Soundwave though especially, the whole thing of formerly two people being erased and overwritten... eesh. and i thought Rumble and Frenzy already had some identity issues

also re: Wasp, i’m pretty sure he finds out he’s a little more deconstructible than most folks when Starscream gives him a high five and his hand just goes flying

#alternate realities

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aspiringtrashpanda · 1 year

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(CONTINUED AGAIN HELP) Can't blame tumblr for putting word limits at this point. Someone @/Ash: "You're a pure-hearted trainer." Cue flashback to other-world!Leaf throwing breadcrumbs at Latios/Latias in Kanto when Steven comes by looking for them and they're like *nudge nudge chirp* *looks at Steven* "ok, he seems like a pure-hearted trainer. if that's really the one you're choosing...protect your new friend too." *Steven gets killed a month later* WAIT NO- (a bit jokish than what fully happened, she also kinda stole his wallet but sshh details) She hates those words, "they're like a curse." It's what got Ash in this Chosen One mess with Arceus and Ho-Oh.

I sometimes wonder if I should convert Pokeverse education to some type of Magnet Program/Technical school sometimes. Just to cut down on time/specialized education. Go on a Journey, speed through classes online at the PokeCenter, have a panic attack because Steven accidentally woke up Groudon and Kyogre because a suspicious man said he could help him find the famed giant rainbow rock. ("Why is it that every time I open the news, you're making headlines for almost dying?! Why is it always Hoenn???!") Fun fun. (No but genuinely, Hoenn really gets put through the wringer with the Titans, the Meteor, the many dark secrets in the region, etc.)

Throw in some real-world influenced mythological trivia about Legendaries and coffee-reliant study sessions in Libraries with Cynthia. Alola vacation? You're discussing lore and having a mental breakdown as Cynthia drops something you've never heard of before (yay for our resident Hisui expert but also ???! WHAT-) that changes everything you ever knew about reality as Steven comes in excited about the field trip to Akala Island because it has rocks and special rock ice-cream and he wants to know what kind of flavors they have in mind for his favorite minerals. ("Oh...is this a bad time?" "Nope. Just Cynthia casually shattering everything I ever knew about the world." "Ah. So the usual.") Every time Steven does something shifty and clever with that smirk on his face from the anime, you know the one, she's like, "did you learn that from business school." Other times it's like, "Do me a favor and maybe don't scream bloody murder at 6 in the morning?" It's 10am, and poor Steven found a Sableye eating his rock collection. A moment of silence please. Really thought someone was attacking him for a sec *insert nobody likes the Kalos Crisis.* You're in your 20s, hypothetically older than Leon by a few months or a year but still get mistaken for a 15 y/o (eyy just like me lol.) He tries to give you an autograph and has to kneel down to your height as Ash and Goh are laughing in the background. #MaybeIShouldWearHeels.

Will Steven ever stop finding himself in hot water? No, but he's too nice to stay mad at. All you can do is cry because you thought he was gonna get himself killed. Can anyone match Cynthia's level of nonchalance? "I didn't take Galactic seriously because of how they dressed, oh cool let's go visit the Distortion World-" Thank god Diantha is normal and best aunt- oh righto, history with Lysandre and Malva...we can keep that hush hush, you fit right in with the rest of these chaotic people. Lance is capable of being just as bad as them but got stuck with "responsible team dad" by default and necessity as nobody else can do it. (He's a wannabe superhero, he def got stabbed by a knife from a Rocket member at some point.)

Heh, whoops. I talked more than I intended, I just couldn’t help myself keeping this story inside for years 👉👈 Hope I didn’t bother you coming into your ask box with all this. Thank you very much but also I’m so sorry omg if you read all this. May Dawn Stones Light Your Days 💎✨

CYNTHIA DESTROYING EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER KNOWN JUMP SCARE. Love it. Okay, for real, the love that you have for this story is evident in even these messages. I can tell it's a passion project and a work of art, of love. The characterization of your Champions are amazing, and if you ever feel comfortable going off anon (literally NO PRESSURE), I would love to pick your brain about personalities and dynamics for an upcoming fic. If you do consider posting, just try to remember that a) you can't please everyone, but b) you will please someone. Try not to worry too much about what is considered commonplace in fanon and such, because if you build your world and story up the way you think it should work, then it will make sense to most readers. Leaf makes perfect sense to me, for example, just because of the little you've told me about the story. If someone tells you it "should" be May, they aren't reading the same story, and again, that's on them.

I think you're on to something great here, and I would love to take this deep dive into found family and friendship in the world of Pokemon with you. My DMs (and askbox for anon) are always open <3 Thank you SO MUCH for sharing your beautiful thoughts with me <3

#aspiringtrashpanda #please talk to me about your fics

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

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Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 00811: Commander Wolffe

WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of mistreated cybernetics, infection, and things having to do with eye sockets. The descriptions are not graphic, but they are most certainly there. Please use caution if any of the listed items make you feel gross or ill. If you scroll to the bottom of the page, I will give a short summary of what happened without the icky parts.

"Medic, we need you in the command tent right away," a trooper said from behind Kix.

Kix turned to look at the newcomer, immediately curious and concerned. He was only starting to set up the med gear as the battle hadn't started yet. As far as the Separatists knew, they were alone on the planet. Little did they know that the 501st, the 212th, and the 104th were all ready and waiting to take control.

He didn't recognize the trooper on-sight, but his armor and its gray designs screamed that he belonged to the Wolfpack. "What is it, trooper..?" he asked.

"Boost, sir," the man answered, giving a deep nod. Kix could sympathize: it was tricky to show respect through a helmet without saluting, and removing your bucket in an active warzone could mean an unpleasant death.

"Boost, then. I'm Kix. Can you tell me what the trouble is?"

Even through the heavy tint of the trooper's visor, Kix could see Boost's hesitation. "I- I can't, sir, sorry. I was only sent to bring you to the command tent."

Kix frowned. It was unlikely to be an emergency since he hadn't heard any blaster fire or shouting. The medical supplies still needed to be set up and they were meant to be his priority since the battle would start at first light… but he had to admit that he was intrigued.

"Listen, Boost, I'm a medic. Anything you tell me goes no further," Kix wheedled, trying for logic. "I need to know the basics so I know what kind of supplies I need to bring."

"It's the commander, sir," Boost admitted after a moment's pause to think. "His implant malfunctioned and he's having trouble getting it to reset."

With that information, Kix grabbed the small set of instruments he kept ready for when General Skywalker had trouble with his mechanical arm. In a motion made smooth from constant practice, he picked up his helmet and put it on one-handed, gesturing to the med tent's entrance as soon as the seal had been formed.

"After you, Boost."

Boost nodded and led him through the small camp. He wasn't rushing, exactly, but there was definitely a speed to his clipped steps that spoke of urgency. When he reached a large tent in the middle of the camp, he stopped, obviously willing to wait outside while Kix went to address whatever issue he would find inside.

Amused despite himself, Kix stepped through the tent's entrance with a small smile under his helmet, one that blossomed into a full-blown grin when he caught sight of Commander Wolffe for the first time.

Wolffe was sitting at one end of the room, scowling darkly at the trooper beside him. His natural brown eye was focused intently on the man, but the white-gray of his cybernetic eye was stuck staring up at the ceiling of the tent. Despite the furrowed brows, prominent frown, and stream of unprofessional language pouring from Wolffe's mouth, the overall effect was more comedic than anything. No matter how the rest of his face moved, the cybernetic eye was persistently pointed upward.

Clearly, one of the commander's infamous eye rolls had ended poorly, and Kix fought to keep himself from laughing aloud. Instead, the grin spread so wide that his jaw began to ache.

Even as Kix watched, the unknown brother made a comment about keeping an eye on the weather and Wolffe's frown deepened. From the markings on the trooper's armor, he was a sergeant. If Kix's memory was as reliable as he thought it was, that would make the unknown trooper Sergeant Sinker, a man well-known for his jokes and light-hearted attitude. It was an ongoing source of amusement for the clones that the most serious commander in all of the GAR should be partnered with the most cheerful sergeant.

Halfway through berating Sinker, Wolffe caught sight of Kix. "Karking finally," he said gruffly. "Took you long enough to get here."

Kix gave a perfunctory salute and smoothed his face into a neutral expression before removing his helmet. "Medic Kix, reporting."

"Any experience with cybernetics?" Commander Wolffe asked.

"Yes, sir," Kix affirmed. "General Skywalker has a cybernetic arm that he puts through the wringer on a regular basis. I've gotten quite proficient in repairing the systems."

A grunt was his only answer, so Kix busied himself removing his uniform gloves and wrist gauntlets before putting on a pair of medical gloves. "Is your eye a mounted or removable model?"

"Mounted."

"The eye itself, the socket, or both?"

Wolffe paused a moment. "The socket is mounted. The eye can be removed, but it's… unpleasant."

Kix watched the commander for a moment. "Unpleasant for you or unpleasant for me?"

"Unpleasant for everyone."

It wasn't much of an answer, but it didn't really matter; the eye had to come out if Kix was going to reset it. "Unfortunately, sir, I need it removed so I can fix the problem. Can you remove it yourself, or will you need assistance?"

Wolffe's natural eye moved toward Sinker minutely and Kix nodded to himself. "I apologize, Sergeant, but could we have the tent? The process can be extensive and is best done without onlookers."

"Sir?" Sinker asked, watching his commander.

Wolffe gave a single nod and Sinker left the tent, offering only a salute and a curious glance before he was gone.

"Thanks."

"No need to thank me, Commander," Kix said simply. "Any medical procedure tends to go more smoothly when the patient is comfortable. Now, do you need assistance removing your eye?"

"I- don't know," Wolffe admitted. "I've never taken it out before."

Kix winced at that. Surface-implanted cybernetics were supposed to be removed once a week for cleaning. He had only met Wolffe a few times, but Kix knew that the commander had gotten the prosthetic nearly a year before.

"I'll help you, then," Kix said decisively. "Fortunately, the removal is done by aiming the eye upward, so it's already in the correct position. I'm going to talk you through the process as I work, and next time, you'll be able to perform the cleaning yourself."

Commander Wolffe nodded once, grimacing as he did so. Kix felt the same way, but pressed on regardless.

"Mounted-socket cybernetic eyes have a cover with a lens for information intake. I'll remove the plate first, and it's set up to automatically disconnect the mag-link as we pull it away. We'll also remove the internal machinery, which is connected to the socket with another mag-link. When the internal machinery is out, only the permanently-mounted socket will remain. We won't do anything with that. Are you ready?"

Wolffe nodded, setting his jaw so tightly that muscles stood out in his cheeks. Deciding that the best course of action would be to perform his job as quickly and painlessly as possible, Kix set to work.

He held Wolffe's lower eyelid open and inserted a hooked tool into a small divot in the bottom side of the cover. It pulled off with little effort, though Kix waited to feel the mag-link disconnect before he pulled it away entirely. After setting the cover aside, he used the same hook to remove the machinery, setting it aside as well.

Wolffe grimaced again, and Kix fought not to mirror the motion. Even if the commander hadn't told him, Kix would have known that Wolffe had never removed the cybernetic for cleaning. The entirety of the machinery was coated with a thick layer of sludge. The worst part was the smell: a disconcerting combination of infection and burnt oil.

Thankful for the distraction, Kix turned away to submerge the inner mechanisms in a mild saline solution. He sealed the container and shook it sharply, continuing the action until the solution had turned a stomach-turning gray-brown.

After he had fished the small mass of mechanism from the solution, Kix turned his attention to the cover, scrubbing at it with a soft brush and some fresh saline. He fixed a few impossibly tiny screws he could see had loosened and tightened the base of a wire, but there wasn't a lot that needed repairs. Kix was willing to bet that the malfunction had happened purely due to the length of time since the cybernetic had been cleaned.

Finally, he turned back to Wolffe. "I'm going to use this brush to clean the socket," he warned. "You shouldn't feel much of it, but there may be an odd sensation."

When Wolffe gave another nod, Kix used the soft brush and more saline to gently buff the inside of the metal socket. When every trace of the sludge had been removed and the components had all completely dried, he set about reassembling the cybernetic eye.

Other than a bit of trouble connecting the mag-link between the internal components and the lens, there were no problems during the process. Kix watched closely as Wolffe closed the lid of his eye over the replaced lens and opened it again, flicking his gaze around the room. Both eyes moved together and the men breathed sighs of relief.

"Thank you, trooper," Wolffe said, starting to rise from his chair, but Kix stopped him with a hand pressed to the commander's shoulder.

"One moment, Commander," he said sternly. "I need you to understand that your cybernetic was in the worst shape I've ever seen. If it hadn't malfunctioned and you had gone another few weeks without cleaning it, the implant could have shorted out so badly that you would have had to replace the entire thing, including the mounted socket."

"I understand," Wolffe told him, but his tone made it clear that it was a poor attempt at humoring Kix.

"I don't think you do, sir," Kix argued. "Malfunction of a cybernetic eye can happen in many ways. You've just experienced the best possible scenario."

Wolffe grunted. "Tell that to the men who are joking about me as we speak."

"The other ways it could have malfunctioned are by overheating so rapidly and intensely that the cybernetic burnt its way through your skull before you could claw it from your head," Kix said harshly. "Or it could have actually caught fire from the amount of dead skin cells I just removed from every part of it. Spontaneous fire in your eye socket, Commander. And those are just two of the horrifying possibilities. You need to remove the lens and clean it at least once every standard week, sir. No jokes, no exaggerations, no lies. Once a week or it could very well kill you."

"I understand," Wolffe repeated, more forcefully this time. "Dismissed, Kix. Send Sinker back in as you return to the med tent."

Kix saluted sharply. He set about removing the medical gloves, donning his uniform gloves and wrist gauntlets, and attaching his helmet before gathering the tools he had used and packing them up to be disinfected at the medical tent.

He lifted the tent's flap, indicating with a short nod that Sinker could re-enter. As the sergeant passed by, Kix turned. "Oh, and Commander?"

Wolffe glanced up at him warily. Kix couldn't fight the grin on his face as he said, "You should probably roll your eyes less often. Didn't anyone ever tell you that they could get stuck that way?"

Sinker let out a barking laugh as Wolffe began to curse in Mando'a. Dropping the tent's flap, Kix walked back to the medical tent with a bit of a bounce in his step.

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Sanitized Summary - Wolffe's cybernetic eye gets stuck in an up-facing position when he rolls his eyes. Kix helps him remove the eye, cleans out the gunk between the lens and the socket, and puts everything back. The eye works, but Kix gives Wolffe a stern lecture about taking care of a cybernetic since the possible outcomes of mistreating one are horrific.

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A/N - Thank you so much for reading (even if it was a little gross). Please reblog so you can gross out your followers!

#Nobody Listens to Kix #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper kix #Commander Wolffe #sergeant sinker #clone trooper boost #wolffe pack #clone troopers deserve better #cybernetics #gross #more to come #please reblog

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nothingunrealistic · 2 years

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review roundup: billions 6x03 “std”

this episode really put taylor & mafee’s relationship through the wringer! will anyone care?

New York Times: ‘Billions’ Season 6, Episode 3 Recap: Street Fighting Man

In this week’s episode, titled “S.T.D.” (it’s not what you think), Prince drives one such competitor — one of the more odious figures in the “Billions” legendarium — to the edge of defeat, then rides in to save his bacon and enrich them both.

only because it stands for a phrase that no one on this earth had abbreviated thusly ever before.

Now all Prince needs to come out on top is a way to placate employees like Ben Kim, Taylor Mason and Wendy Rhoades, who have sentimental attachments to the rival firm established by Mafee and Dollar Bill. This he produces in the form of a bailout by the venerable I-bank Spartan-Ives; it’s enough for Mafee to reinstitute his weekly dinner meet-ups with Taylor, to say nothing of saving the bacon of his and Dollar Bill’s firm, High Plains Management. (Its logo is two crossed six-shooters. Yee-haw!)

this is aggressively skimming over taylor’s plotline in this episode. makes it seem like they (and wendy & ben) were never willing to go along with prince’s plan even an inch. (also, i will be so unhappy if it turns out that real people in the real world unironically use “I-bank” as shorthand for “investment bank.”)

But drawing on the lessons of his successful showdown with the upstate billionaire Melville Revere, Chuck is not about to be outdone. He literally stops traffic outside the news conference, then starts walking on top of the stopped cars, megaphone in hand. The billionaire class, he says as the top of some poor commuter’s car buckles under his dress shoe, will not be allowed to quintuple traffic and displace the city’s citizens — not on his watch, anyway.

get his ass!

By bringing him aboard, they grease the wheels for Prince’s New York Olympic bid, but it’s their shared, teary-eyed love of the Harry Chapin song “Cat’s in the Cradle” that truly cements their new partnership. Wags crying real tears over this sentimental ode to the tenuous relationship between father and son? Stranger things have happened, especially on this show … but not very many.

wags sobbing in the arms of a professional cuddler was definitely stranger. he had a multi-episode arc about regretting the job he did as a father! and that song could make anyone cry!

Do I miss the days when Bobby Axelrod introduced, like, Motörhead’s “Ace of Spades” into the equation? Yes I do.

that’s a you problem.

“I like being rich — ain’t gonna end up like Trump,” says Todd Krakow; unless I’m mistaken, this is the show’s most direct reference yet to the former president.

it is! after creeping around his name for over three seasons, even at a point earlier in this same episode!

Perhaps the show’s most breathtaking moment is the sight of the business-casual enthusiasts Mafee and Dollar Bill fully suited up for their big news conference with Krakow. I never knew they had it in them.

not that impressive for dollar bill, but the only other time we’ve seen mafee in a suit was in 3x07, in a flashback that showed him in an incredibly ill-fitting suit, so props to him on finding a suit that actually fits him between then and now.

Vulture: Billions Recap: Olympic Fever

Pretty much any investor with cash to burn is buying up land because, as Mafee assures Ben in the most unsettling way possible, it’s an “STD.”

A “sure thing, dude.” Sigh.

felt that.

We know that Chuck’s gotta Chuck, but Kate Sacker is appalled with this development and certainly not buying Chuck’s promise that it’s for the “greater good.” How much longer is she going to put up with this?

the question we’re all asking! and the answer appears to be “not much longer!”

This subplot is less about the introduction of a new character and more about how Wags and Scooter are the new Odd Couple: Almost nothing in common but absolutely entertaining whenever together.

i told you!

For example, Scooter quickly puts the kibosh on Wags’s intimidation tactics in favor of honoring their millennial employee’s reasonable compensation request for doing an internet scrape on Drache.

euphemizing winston asking to borrow wags’ bentley for a weekend as a “reasonable compensation request” is the funniest thing ever said about him outside of tumblr and discord. (i almost wonder if the writer meant to describe said request and then just forgot.)

This rampant friction has seeped into every level of MPC, with Ben Kim torn between loyalty to Mafee and Dollar Bill, and to his place of business. He feels awful that Prince is going to kill his friends’ land deal, and his usual sources of support, Taylor and Wendy, aren’t doing much to ease his conscience.

i wouldn’t call taylor a “usual source of support” for ben kim. (or for anyone. they’re the one in need of support.)

(Prince stops short of saying the former mayor’s name rhymed with “Will Le Dlasio,” but notes that he “left office as a punch line.”)

get his ass!

The rift between Taylor and Mafee, however, isn’t so easily mended. Accosting Taylor at their weekly scheduled dinner, a livid Mafee tears into his erstwhile boss, accusing them of being so “devoid of human understanding” that they wouldn’t even step in when they knew High Plains Management’s bid was in trouble. (Hey, dude, Wendy tried to warn you!) But Taylor realizes Mafee has a point: You can’t be “enemies in business and friends on the outside.”

don’t know why “enemies in business and friends on the outside” is in quotes, since it’s heavily paraphrasing the thing taylor actually said about their friendship with mafee. (the exact quote: “After Mafee left the firm, I always thought of us as Bird and Magic. Kill each other on the court, but best friends in the off-season.” it was a basketball reference! even i knew that!)

Upon reflection, Wendy and Taylor realize they can’t just walk away from Mafee and Dollar’s Bill’s loss by pretending nothing happened. In short, their friends’ defeat — and some serious prodding from Ben Kim — has lit a spark in their damaged souls. They visit High Plains Management with both a friendly caveat and an olive branch: Stop getting too big for your britches, but in the meantime, good ol’ Spartan Ives will fund High Plains, so they don’t have to shut down. That, and Taylor and Mafee are back on for weekly dinner. Warm fuzzies galore!

again with the souls. there’s got to be a better way to talk about these characters! and like you said, they already tried to warn mafee & dollar bill of what was coming!

By the end of the episode, Prince’s mammoth win appears to be an “STD” (eww, I can’t believe I just wrote that). But that only drives Chuck — and Billions — to pull out the heavy hitters. No, not surprise cameos. Bruce Springsteen quotes and Rolling Stones music cues.

you did it! you broke billions down to its bare essentials!

The “Cat’s in the Cradle” scene between Scooter and Wags is the reason why I said earlier that they had almost nothing in common. It was a great, subtle return to the forgotten subplot about Wags’s parenting failures and the bond that Wags and Scooter have after all. Turns out Scooter put his career over his children as well, and now both men are fighting back tears when Alexa plays the Harry Chapin classic.

at least SOMEONE remembers that wags arc.

Entertainment Weekly: Billions recap: Old friends and new enemies stand in the way of Mike Prince's next big move

I've had one question in particular on my mind through the first two episodes of this season: where the hell are Mafee (Dan Soder) and Dollar Bill (Kelly AuCoin)?

🙄.

The episode begins at 3:30 in the morning, as Ben Kim (Daniel K. Isaac) has called Bonnie (Sarah Stiles) and Tuk (Dhruv Maheshwari) into the office to deal with something major.

it was 3:23 AM, not 3:30. they put it on the screen in big letters. make an effort.

Kim was out having drinks with his old pal Mafee, when Mafee — ever unable to keep his plays to himself — drops some hints about how High Plains Management, which he runs with Dollar Bill, is about to lock up some real estate deals for the Olympics.

get his ass!

There's the interesting way that Ben Kim, Wendy (Maggie Siff), and Taylor (Asia Kate Dillon) all want to protect Mafee and Dollar Bill from Prince's attack while also remaining loyal to the man they work for. They manage to save High Plains Management from damage, but does this change how they see Prince and his supposed "moralistic" approach to doing business?

i would also like to know the answer to this! but none of these three can expect prince to have the same attachment to mafee & dollar bill that they do. that’s hardly a test of his morals.

I really like how Billions is drawing these parallels between Chuck and Prince. It feels like a fruitful area to explore; where Chuck vs. Axe was always more of a straightforward Good vs. Evil battle, this clash feels more complex, as it explores who these men really are compared to who they think they are.

in what season was chuck vs. axe a straightforward good vs. evil battle? chuck is awful too!

At some point, these men will have to reckon with their true intentions and how they present themselves both to the world and the people closest to them, and they might not like what they see.

i think chuck & prince could maintain those blind spots indefinitely. especially chuck, now that no one other than his father and maybe ira could be described as close to him. taylor, on the other hand…

#billions #6x03 #review roundup

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blitzturtles · 3 years

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Title: It Starts Like This, Ch. 3/?

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind

Pairing(s): BruAbba, Platonic Bucci Gang

Summary: “I’d ask how you’re feelin’, but I’m guessin’ the answer’s ‘not so hot’?”

Bucciarati hums at him in lieu of an actual response.

Notes: Turns out being dead has a bit of a long term effect. Who would have thought?

This fic got away from me, so I'm breaking it down by character interaction (sort of). This is Mista's part of this very Bucci-centric fic.

Mista is too busy watching a movie from his spot on the living room couch to notice his two new companions until one of them is practically deposited on top of him. He startles but reigns in his reaction when he sees that it’s Bucciarati. He looks like-- ‘hell’ would be putting it nicely. The poor bastard looks like someone put him through the wringer, either before or after running him over with a train.

“What the hell?” Mista asks, looking up at the room’s only other occupant. Abbacchio isn’t looking at him so much as frowning at the back of Bucciarati’s head.

“He had three seizures,” Abbacchio says finally. Bucciarati makes a noise in the back of his throat and flaps a hand uselessly in Abbacchio’s direction.

“Three?!”

“Yeah,” Abbacchio says shortly, “They did it on purpose. I need to--”

“Wait, what the fuck? I thought they were supposed to help!” That’s the whole reason Abbacchio took Bucciarati, right? Giorno had told Mista about it earlier after Abbacchio had apparently stopped by his office for long enough to explain why he was skipping out on work for the day.

Abbacchio pinches the bridge of his nose. Now that Mista’s looking at him, Abbacchio also looks wrecked, but in a different way. Exhaustion shows despite his makeup, and there’s black smudges around his eyes. It’s not significant, but enough that Mista has to wonder if Abbacchio attempted to clean it up after making a mess of it.

“They have to trigger them to-- I don’t know, evaluate them or whatever,” Abbacchio starts for the hallway. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just keep an eye on him.” He’s gone before Mista can respond. His voice has an odd waver at the end of his sentence that gives Mista a good idea of what Abbacchio is up to.

No problem, if the man needs a minute, Mista’s more than happy to keep Bucciarati company.

“I’d ask how you’re feelin’, but I’m guessin’ the answer’s ‘not so hot’?”

Bucciarati hums at him in lieu of an actual response.

“Yeah, thought so,” Mista shifts them so Bucciarati is tucked into his side. He wraps one arm around him, loosely, before letting the Pistols out to find perches of their own. They’re pestering him too much to keep them locked up, and the extra eyes can’t hurt.

They catch onto the situation quickly enough. Five snuggles up against Bucciarati’s neck, half obscured by black curtains of hair. The braid is still absent, which means there’s a lot more to hide in. Mista figures that that’s about where the rest of the Pistols end up, considering the fact that he can’t exactly see them.

As long as they aren’t fighting, Mista’s sure it’s fine.

He turns his attention back to the TV. He had only just started the movie about twenty minutes ago. Giorno had kicked him out of his office, claiming that he needed to focus on paperwork. Mista doesn’t think his presence was the problem, but he gets the nerves. They’re all a little on edge. It’s why he’s got a movie on in the first place. Something to distract himself, but now he has Bucciarati pressed against him. He remembers what Abbacchio said about stimulation the other day and decides to turn down the volume to near silence. He’s only interested in the gun-slinging parts anyway. Mostly so he can judge the accuracy (or lack thereof).

The two remain in silence for well over fifteen minutes before Mista is startled by the sensation of someone petting his head. Only it’s not his head. He glances down to see that Five has come out of his spot to cling onto Bucciarati’s shirt-- Mista takes a moment to appreciate the fact that Abbacchio got Bucciarati to wear something other than a suit in public, but that’s not important. He’s more concerned with the Pistols and what they might be getting up to.

But Bucciarati doesn’t seem bothered as he gently pets Five’s head with two calloused fingers. Five starts chattering away at him almost immediately. Talking about anything and everything. Mista’s cheeks heat up slightly. They don’t have to be so embarrassing, he thinks to himself, but Bucciarati doesn’t seem to mind. Nor does he seem to mind when One and Seven clamor in for their turns.

Mista startles again when he turns his head and ends up face to face with a blue helmet and a head full of spikes. They’re inches apart, and it’s a little unnerving to be stared at by something that he can’t actually meet the eyes of,

“Hey, SF.”

Sticky Fingers reaches past him and extends a hand out to the remaining Pistols. Two and Three climb on, each grasping a finger, while Sticky Fingers settles themselves on the floor, in front of the couch.

It’s a little odd to watch a stand so much larger than his own sit on the ground with their legs crossed, as if that’s totally normal. Mista has a feeling it has something to do with Bucciarati’s current condition. Five is always quick to pop out when he thinks Mista is in danger. Sticky Fingers must feel their user’s distress, and, if petting the Pistols is helping Bucciarati, they might as well join in.

Absently, Mista notes that Six must still be in Bucciarati’s hair.

“I thought I told you to keep an eye on him,” Abbacchio grouches upon his return. His footsteps give him away, thankfully. Mista doesn’t think he can take another shot at his ego. He’s already been startled twice. A third time would be absurd. (A fourth would be catastrophic. He’d definitely have to go check on Giogio with that kind of luck.)

“I am,” Mista says with a half grin, “Got fourteen of ‘em.”

Abbacchio grumbles something under his breath as he approaches. His fingers brush over Sticky Finger’s head carefully, “You know he doesn’t like it when you fuss.”

Sticky Fingers gives him a look that honestly amazes Mista. He doesn’t know how a stand with half their face obscured can be so expressive, much less expressive the level of unimpressed that SF is.

“Yeah, yeah,” Abbacchio pats Sticky Fingers and moves past them to take up the nearby chaise lounge.

Mista takes a moment to look him over. More so than earlier, and he winces. Abbacchio’s eyes are definitely red, despite his newly redone makeup. He must be trying to do his best to hide from Bucciarati. Not that Abbacchio walks around all that often with his face bare, but to take the time to redo his makeup and at least attempt to look like he hasn’t been crying from the stress… Mista feels for him, but he doesn’t know what he can offer.

He’s tempted to give Abbacchio his spot on the couch, so that the two can curl up together, but Bucciarati seems content where he is. Mista’s afraid to move him around too much, plus, Abbacchio isn’t exactly shy about asking (demanding) for something when he wants it.

The trio lapses back into silence. Bucciarati’s seemingly dozed off with two Pistols cupped under his hand. Two and Three join the pile when Sticky Fingers’ form dissipates, apparently recalled to their owner upon his falling asleep.

“They really take a lot out of him, huh?” The seizures, not the Pistols. Mista doesn’t think he has to clarify.

It’s weird to see Bucciarati like this. Two days in a row no less. There have been times-- in the past-- where Bucciarati had worn himself into complete exhaustion, but it’s a rare sort of thing where Bucciarati shows his weakness. Mista’s privileged enough to have seen it only because he’s been Bucciarati’s right hand a countless number of times. Plus, despite how he acts, Bucciarati isn’t that much older than him. He can’t soldier through everything. He has limits, like the rest of them. And trauma. So much trauma. Mista thinks anyone other than Bucci would have suffocated under it all by now.

“They gave him something to help relax his muscles. It’s supposed to help with the seizures, too,” Abbacchio explains, weary eyes flitting across Bucciarati’s form. He looks much more relaxed now, thankfully. Abbacchio doesn’t exactly like seeing his partner this way, but he prefers it to the painful tension that had been there earlier.

Mista frowns, “This all sounds crazy dangerous.”

“It is,” Abbacchio admits, eyes darting away.

“Oh,” Mista looks down at the man curled against him. Right.

“They wanted to admit him.”

“And he said ‘no’.”

“Nailed it,” Abbacchio sighs. “Look, it’s not exactly my place to tell you this, but… his father had seizures, too. One of the bullets,” he motions vaguely. Uselessly. He hates all of this, and he feels like he’s out of his depth, “Nicked his brain. Fugo and I think this is more uh-- he called it an ‘anoxic event’, but anyways. We don’t think it’s a hit that did it, but from when Giorno brought him back.”

“Oh yeah, Giogio said Bucci didn’t wake up when he healed him at the church. He had to do CPR.”

“Yeah, exactly, and it took him a minute. The brain doesn’t like that anymore than a bullet, I guess,” Abbacchio runs his fingers through his hair, only now realizing he never put his headpiece on. He can’t bring himself to care about it now.

Mista nods. That makes sense. He’s had his own head injuries in the past, and they usually throw him for a spin. He couldn’t imagine that being dead did the brain any favors. No blood flow, means no oxygen, and that usually means cellular death. That’s how Giorno explained it, anyways, and it makes sense to Mista

He runs his fingers up along Bucciarati’s arm. A gentle, comforting touch that he hopes isn’t too much. The man needs a break. Maybe they can plan a getaway for him.

“You said they gave him meds. They gonna always do this?” It’s honestly scary to see Bucciarati like this. Quiet and compliant. Mista doesn’t think there would be much protest no matter which way he might turn the man. He won’t. He doesn’t want to hurt him or set off something worse, but it’s disturbing all the same. This isn’t the man they’re used to, and he knows Bucciarati would hate it if he were more aware.

“Depends,” Abbacchio shrugs. He tries to sound nonchalant, but it’s obvious he’s failing, “Everyone responds to different shit differently, but this was more like what they’d give him if he went to the ED.”

It’s a lot to take in. Mista’s starting to get why Abbacchio looks the way he does. He feels completely overwhelmed, and he’s not actually dating the guy. He can’t imagine how Bucciarati is coping with all of this. Stubbornly, but it’s got to be a lot. More than anyone should have to deal with.

“I’d offer to get you something to drink, but I’m kind of pinned down by your partner here. But you look like you could use it. I still have seven sets of eyes… if you want to.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Abbacchio says after a moment. He wouldn’t consider it if Bucciarati were awake, but all he’s doing now is stressing over something that none of them can do anything about. He’s a coward for it, nonetheless. Bucciarati isn’t getting a break from any of this, except for when he’s unconscious. And Abbacchio has spent years trying to quell his tendency to reach for the bottle when life pushes him too hard, yet here he is.

“You’re overthinking it, dude.”

“Shut up,” Abbacchio grumbles as he gets up.

______

One glass easily turns into two, then three. Somehow he loses the bottle before it turns into four. He can’t figure out where to, and that keeps him busy and distracted for a while.

Whatever it takes to get Abbacchio out of his own head, Mista thinks. He teases him a bit, but he’s just relieved that Abbacchio doesn’t look like he’s going to have a breakdown if someone says the wrong thing about the color of his nails.

He doesn’t point out that the bottle is next to him and Bucciarati now. It’s not his own doing, of course. Bucciarati is firmly pressed against him, seemingly more drool than coherency. The Pistols can’t lift it either, at least not in any way that they could have gotten past Abbacchio unnoticed. The only thing that could do that would be the golden shine of a familiar zipper.

The other thing he fails to mention is the way Bucciarati had whispered, ‘shhh’, against him as SF made off with the bottle. It’s a little funny, and Mista’s happy to keep the secret for now. He figures Abbacchio’s good. Prone to drinking more than he needs to, he’s almost as likely to send himself careening back off the mental health cliff if given the opportunity (and enough wine). Right now, he’s perfectly tipsy and distracted.

Abbacchio eventually gives up his search for the bottle-- he never suspects his partner, nor his aptly named stand.

Bucciarati quietly restarts the movie and turns the sound up a bit. He doesn’t feel great, but his thoughts aren’t completely static now, which isn’t to say much about the coherency. There’s a full body nausea that he can’t shake, either, but the medication makes him feel somewhat detached from his body. Enough so that he doesn’t think he’ll be physically sick.

The television catches Abbacchio’s eye after a few minutes, and the man is scoffing almost immediately at some horribly inaccurate detail or another. Bucciarati says nothing, but he smiles in amusement.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Mista when he thinks Abbacchio is too engrossed to notice.

“No problem, Bucci.”

Mista grazes his fingernails over Bucciarati’s arm, a gentle press that feels nice against sore muscles. Bucciarati hums in response, once more grateful for his right hand. He’s not sure what he would do without his team.

#bruabba #bruno buccellati #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #jjba #jjba part 5 #golden wind #vento aureo #blitzwrites #blitz #fic: islt

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gogglor · 3 years

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Cap-Ironman RecWeek: CapIM Sunday

And now, here at the end of @cap-ironman recweek, we get to the fics I love that were created for one CapIM event or another (a day late, oops). Here’s some of my all-time favorite fics that were originally created for Cap-Ironman Events.

pants on fire

Author: nanasekei

Word Count: 9,631

Summary: “Look, I’m not thrilled by the prospect of spending my day here either," Nick said, "but there’s no postponing this. We can’t give them a chance to combine stories.” “Right,” Hill said. “And I’m sure they’ll all be very…cooperative.” “Hope you didn’t have any dinner plans." Hill’s sigh mirrored his own so much it was unnerving. “Okay.” She leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk. “Send in the first one.”

Why You Should Read It:

This one came to me through the POTS server when I asked for some truth serum recs, and it’s one of my all time favorite examples of the trope because it’s just so different.

There was an incident, and Fury thinks the Avengers have left out some critical details in their reports. So he and Maria Hill talk to each of them one-by-one to reconstruct what happened. The whole fic is a story told through the interviews with each of them, which is literally the coolest idea I have ever heard and may steal some day. But watching the Stony unfold through several unreliable narrators via interrogations is just... such a wonderful way to experience a story, 10/10.

Unveil My Unsightly Heart

Author: Mizzy

Word Count: 43,019

Summary: Looking over an old prototype helicarrier for its future viability as a base for the Avengers should have just been a routine day full of bickering and non-adventure for Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. But when they're catapulted into an alternate universe – where their alternate selves are married and battling with a mysterious threat – the two are forced to get over their differences in order to figure out what's going on, before it's too late. Because there's more going on than meets the eye, and Steve and Tony falling in love might just be the most dangerous thing that can happen. Not just for one universe, but for all of them…

Why You Should Read It:

Man, I have been waiting all week to rec y’all a Mizzy fic! They’re incredible. The story-telling, the way they can keep you guessing until the very, very end, it’s like nobody else I’ve ever seen on AO3.

Mizzy’s probably most famous in Stony circles for “Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep” which... if you haven’t read it already, rectify that right now, but this one’s my personal favorite of theirs. It’s an honest-to-god thriller story, which is rare enough in fanfiction. And the TWISTS! Holy crow, if I can ever write a story half as gripping as this I’ll consider myself blessed. If you want a Stony fic that’s like nothing you’ve read before, and that will keep you guessing what’s going to happen next right until the very end, look no further.

A Hundred Times, Once

Author: FestiveFerret, SirSapling

Word Count: 24,761

Summary: The shrill tone of his SHIELD beeper pulls Steve out of sleep and into battle. He fights robots, he fights Tony's shameless advances, he fights the exhaustion that threatens to take over him, drown him. And then the next morning, he wakes and does it again. Exactly the same. And again. And again. And again.

Why You Should Read It:

Groundhog day fics were an itch I never realized I wanted scratched until I read this fic. In it, Steve keeps repeating the same day over and over again, getting hit on by Tony over and over again, and ultimately falling in love with someone who forgets everything that’s happened every morning. Poor Steve really goes through the emotional wringer in this fic, and the end result is some absolutely lovely emotional hurt/comfort and some very steamy smut. I’ve re-read this fic like five times and yet I always start it over, so thanks a lot, Ferret and Sapling, for trapping me in the same curse Steve’s got.

The Truth Is

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 7,533

Summary: Steve and Tony are put under a spell that prevents each of them from uttering any truthful statements to the other. With Steve hiding the truth about how Tony’s parents died, both of them hiding how they feel about each other, and regular old emotional repression, it takes a while for anyone to notice.

Why You Should Read It:

This is the first fic I read by dp and is the reason I became such a huge fangirl of their work.

This story’s a really delightful twist on the typical truth serum story, and it’s told in a style that mimics Lemony Snickett. I really haven’t read anything else like it anywhere. It’s just so damn creative! Read this, and then read everything else dp writes because they’re just absolutely phenomenal and everybody should know who they are.

And that’s the end! Thank y’all for reading through all my fic recs. And I can’t wait to read through the ones I’ve collected from other participants in this event. Ciao!

#capimrecweek #stony #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #fanfic #fanfic rec

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Chapter 6! And I’m at 70 followers already, which is hella hype, thank y’all for taking your time to read my rambling about all this stuff. Don’t feel shy to ask questions or whatever if you like; even if I can be a bit disjointed, it’s something fun to talk about, and as I get further in I can even get a better sense of how to answer them to the best of my knowledge.

Also, can I say I love this little intro profile to Izuku?

All the little tidbits about him are just so fitting! Though my one weird take on it is why it says his quirk is ‘TBD’... unless Hori was already planning for the developments to come from the Joint Training Arc and beyond. Or maybe just leaving himself room for those kinds of developments if he wasn’t quite set yet?

Still, I think this was still the time period where Hori was thinking it was going to end after like, Kamino or something. With something like Two Heroes.

Discord: It could have been a placeholder until Hori came up with a fake quirk name for Izuku to hide his quirk behind, aka Superpower.

Anyways, without further delays, time to get into the chapter itself!

[No. 6 - What I Can Do For Now]

We dive right in with Ochako protesting how unfair this is. Aizawa notes that Japan is full of unfair things - natural disasters, highway pileups, rampaging villains. Heroes are the ones to correct that unfairness. UA is going to put them through the wringer for the next three years - as per the Plus Ultra motto.

(also, nice silhouettes of Midnight, Thirteen, and… I think Lunch Rush? The discord also suggested it might either be a proto-design for Vlad King, or just a background character who ended up scrapped/forgotten about.)

Aizawa calls them out to bring their best, saying that now it’s for real. Tenya thinks about it being a trial by fire, Katsuki thinks of his move as nothing, Ochako is shaking in determination, the rest of the class is focused, and Izuku is… still stressing. Also, these proto-designs:

I cannot even. Those horns. That HAIR. The lack of beak. It’s just so weird compared to their finalized designs.

The first event gets off to a speedy start, Tenya zooming right through the 50-meter dash thanks to his Engine quirk. Aizawa thinks that that event was too suited to Tenya, and thinks about how he’ll handle the other events. Tsuyu wasn’t too slow, though, and the narrative doesn’t even try to introduce her quirk with how obvious it is - she’s a frog!

Ochako and Ojiro are shown next, and-

Ojiro, why the leaping? Someone suggested it might be a reference, but it could just be another early weird character thing being tried, I guess? I don’t even know, it’s just strange.

Next is Aoyama and Mina, with the latter with the curliest horns I cannot even. Aoyama also makes a move to show off his quirk, calling the others unimaginative as he rockets backwards along the track- and then falling flat before the goal and having to get back up on his feet to do so again, with Mina managing to pass ahead of him thanks to the acid under her feet.

Aoyama is still sparkling as he explains how if he’d fired an instant earlier, his stomach would have exploded, which, fun! The rest of the class is like ‘what the fuck dude’, which is a mood. Aizawa thinks about how the kids are pushing their quirks to their limits and seeing how they’ve improved, he can guess what they can and can’t do, and how that will be linked to their creative use of their quirks.

Meanwhile, Katsuki and Izuku are doing the sprint side by side, Katsuki taking on an absolutely feral expression as he uses his quirk to blast ahead, in the process starling and slowing down Izuku slightly.

Seriously, Katsuki’s faces are just. I can’t describe how much of a gremlin this child is. And this!

His thoughts immediately going back to Izuku right after determining how that use of his quirk worked for him. His being thoughtful about that force distribution suggests he didn’t use his quirk much practically before UA… which makes sense, producing explosions and then using it for movement purposes are two different things.

Also the bot giving Izuku a little ‘good job’ just touched my heart. Though it really sucks that Katsuki probably cost Izuku a few seconds with that move of his; luckily, Izuku still came in under his middle school record despite his setback, which is impressive! Aizawa isn’t impressed, though, and Izuku isn’t either, thinking about how even using his power once will wreck him, and how regulating it is easier said than done.

We descend into a short flashback, again to the beach, with Toshinori stating that the trick to regulation is sensation! With Izuku agreeing immediately, because he’s a fanboy. Toshinori notes that Izuku experienced 100% power, and Izuku notes that it really messed him up. Toshinori says that it should be easy, and asks how it felt. Because I can’t do this justice:

Izuku you little dumbass, I love you, but your ability to describe things leaves much to be desired.

In full seriousness, though, like, the kid might just be afraid of his own power, just from this moment right after the flashback:

But yeah, to catch up to this point, Toshinori tells Izuku to keep that image in his head for the last three weeks until school starts, and that control can’t be obtained overnight, but he believes Izuku can and will manage it! We get back to Izuku attempting the grip strength, thinking about not exploding the egg, and then he has that fun trauma flashback to the state of his body after the zero pointer, and is dismayed at his ‘lacking’ score of 56 kg - especially compared to Shouji’s score of 540 kg.

WHAT IS THAT SERO DESIGN. What is that Mineta design????? Also why is THIS the first impression we get of Mineta. Him calling Shouji, or his quirk, or his strength, sexy,,, I think that’s just a case of weird translation, but still.

Izuku is shown to come short in the next two events, getting more and more stressed as he fails to use his quirk at all. By the fifth event, Izuku is stressed about being out of options while watching Ochako literally get an infinity on the ball throw, because everyone else has at least one amazing record and the last events are ones he can’t use his quirk for in any meaningful way.

He steps up to the circle, with Tenya noting that he’s not doing well, which in turn has Katsuki call out how he’s quirkless, so of course. Tenya is confused, asking whether Katsuki had heard about the entrance exam, which confuses Katsuki. Aizawa is already expecting Izuku’s next move, which is to charge up his whole arm and try to throw it as far as he can, while thinking about his mom and All Might and their support of him.

We see Aizawa’s eyes snap open, flashing - and Izuku’s quirk fails, the ball barely hitting 46 meters. For a moment, Izuku is outright horrified:

God, poor kid. Izuku looks at his hands, swearing he was trying to use it, but Aizawa tells him that he erased Izuku’s quirk. In slightly more entertaining news:

Like a freaking schoolgirl. I can’t even, he cares about his kid so much.

Aizawa explains how the entrance exam is ridiculous, and completely irrational if it lets ‘someone like you get in’. Which, fucking OUCH, I can’t imagine how much that had to hurt Izuku. Izuku, however, is more distracted with his realization that Aizawa is the pro hero Eraserhead, and how his quirk works… which is fucking impressive considering how much Aizawa would try to keep that information on the down low in order to maximize his effectiveness in taking out villains.

(Also, what a shot. Izuku’s imagination really is something.)

Wait, All Might, how did you get so close to the class so quickly, and how did no one notice you? Man be maxing stealth and speed somehow. Also, I love how the translation accidentally called Aizawa an ‘angler-type hero’, which I think was… not what was intended.

But yeah, most of the class hasn’t heard about the man, while All Might notes how Aizawa hates public appearances because it interferes with his work, and how he and Aizawa hardly see eye to eye.

Aizawa tells Izuku that he’s seen how the kid can’t control his quirk, and that he’d just be incapacitated again, before asking if he was hoping someone would step in to help afterwards. Izuku says it’;s not like that, while Aizawa’s scarf slips around him and drags him closer. Aizawa says that his plan would inconvenience others, then brings up All Might’s legendary rescue while also calling him hot blooded.

Just, ouch, Izuku has to be feeling the pressure. I know he’s used to people doubting him, but this still can’t be fun so soon after he’s finally gotten himself some confidence in his right to be at UA.

Aizawa finally closes his eyes and lets his power go, telling Izuku to give it another go, and to get this over with. Izuku is in a mental slump, muttering to himself about his options, while the class looks on.

Aoyama what the fuck. Also Katsuki, you are about to be disappointed and blown away. Aizawa is curious as to how Izuku is going to fail out of his class while applying eye drops. Izuku’s muttering goes on as he thinks about how he can’t regulate OFA yet, and how everything is now hedging on this single throw, and how even All Might noted that it would take time to learn control.

Izuku moves like he’s going to do a full power throw, and Aizawa is already declaring that Izuku has no chance. However, Izuku still isn’t pulling up OFA even as he moves through the motions of the throw, while thinking about how Aizawa is right; Aizawa realizes mid-sentence that something is different about this from Izuku’s last attempt. Even as the ball is just about to leave his hand, his quirk isn’t there, as he notes that he has to work harder than anyone else if he wants to get in.

Toshinori is mentally cheering Izuku on, as Izuku mutters that he’ll give it his all in the smallest way - and pulls up OFA in just one finger at the last moment, sending the ball flying and his finger to the wringer. Katsuki is shocked, Aizawa is shocked as well, and Izuku’s finger is dripping blood. Aizawa realizes that Izuku didn’t use his full power, just concentrated it, while Izuku has Aizawa’ words echo in his head as he replies that he can still move. The last panel of the page has Aizawa looking like he’s close to laughing at how ridiculous the situation is.

And so ends chapter 6! Man, what a ride, and it’s not a shock that Izuku is still trying to be so cautious with his quirk at this point… in contrast with much, much later in the manga.

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seijorhi · 3 years

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asks :)

i’m sorry i’m bad at answering these i love you guys

I just adore fics like these, outside characters seeing through yandere facades and putting the pieces together. Atsumu’s frustration at knowing something is wrong but not being able to convey it without sounding crazy or jealous (and then exactly that happens), and then his mental agony at realizing he’s right but powerless. Ugh and the piece de resistance was his own inner turmoil at his attraction, it was just *chef’s kiss*. Do you think Atsumu became a bit of a lowkey yandere in his own way just obscured with a savior complex? Poor reader if she ever ends up his clutches, swapping one crazed man for another only Atsumu will never see himself as the bad guy. Thanks for the time and effort you put into such amazing writing!!

poor atsumu, i really put him through the wringer on this one :(( he starts with good intentions, but you know what they say about those haha. i honestly think he’s kinda fucked, because on the one hand he has everybody telling him he’s being a creeper, making mountains out of molehills, because how could hinata possibly do anything like that? and on the other he’s got hinata who’s not only aware of his suspicions but kinda pushing him to snap but dangling the reader in front of him. which way he falls is kinda up to you, but i think the fact he jerked off to a blowjob she clearly didn’t want says a lot about what he’s willing to (temporarily at least) overlook.

(English is not my first language so if I make grammar mistakes i'm sorry :( )

I got chills while reading insidious! It was so amazing. I really appreciated how you wrote that in Atsumu's perspective and made him an unreliable narrator.

It reminds me of the old drabble that you did with BokuAka where they kidnapped their manager and wrote it in Konoha's perspective. In that drabble, while Konoha did act selfishly, I still felt that he was a good person overall.

But in this fic, despite Atsumu claiming that Hinata and y/n's relationship was toxic and wrong, he still felt jealous. He wanted to be in Hinata's place. He wanted what Hinata had with y/n. I don't think his issue with them was because their relationship was toxic (maybe it was in the beginning), he just wanted it to be him who's with her. And that's the brilliance of this fic, seeing not only how unsettling Hinata's relationship was but also seeing Atsumu also slowly becoming obssessed.

first of all, never apologise for your english or any language for that matter. you’re doing great bby! but i’m glad you liked the fic!! <33 i can’t resist morally corrupting a character with good intentions. poor tsumu. poor konoha :((

Oof Hinata is terrifying and you wrote him so so so in character, like damn. He’s so happy like he’s just not a dark person which makes it so jarring bc he himself might not even register his actions as bad. I would love to see more content with him bc you got a girl scared and horny! But just wow I was on the edge of my seat!

ahh thank you my love!!

this is kinda random but i’m happy that i finally don’t have to type your full @ on the search bar to get to your blog anymore!!!!! also your new hinata ft atsumu fic literally sent chills down my spine. it kinda disturbed me how nobody (except atsumu) is questioning hinata’s character because hinata the always positive bundle of joy and sunshine can’t be capable of doing such things right? and how hinata is aware of atsumu’s suspicions ANDattraction towards his girl so he plays these little mind games with atsumu while maintaining that happy go lucky smile on his face acting like everything is normal. i just love your writing so much i literally visit your blog often for new updates😭

ahh i wished i had more updates for you haha! it’s really the worst when nobody believes something you think is painfully obvious. and hinata’s sunshine and sweet and super adoring, so why would anyone think twice about his relationship with the reader? and it doesn’t help that he’s toeing the line (before jumping right across it) between genuine concern and a little bit of attraction, but that’s half the fun haha. thanks for the ask bby!

Ok but you write Atsumu pining for the reader in a relationship so well. Inescapable Atsumu vs Oikawa is so good, the desperation, the crying *chefs kiss* Insidious is a diff Atsumu, more caring but thirsty all the same. Bokuto and co.s reaction is so funny 😭 they literally said you need to chill a little Atsumu

(Maybe we need to make this a full circle and make Atsumu pine for Osamus S.O. eye-)

i’m so mean to atsumu in both of those fics. dw i’ll make it up to him haha <33

It’s been said before but your Hinata fic was AMAZING and just so scarily in character. Hinata is definitely one of the scariest yanderes because he’s so unsuspecting and who would believe such a cheerful person is capable?!? It was just so well-written, I loved how you wrote Atsumu’s rising suspicions (especially how he can’t really prove anything bc it’s Hinata of all ppl) and his own descent into obsession and everyone’s reaction to him. It was so deliciously twisted and you can’t help but pity reader in what we can assume is her little sliver of hope that she can be saved bc someone finally noticed. Just chills.

thank you so much, bby! hinata does give off those vibes, and who would suspect him because he’s so attentive and bright and bubbly. i’m glad you liked it!! <33

Rhi RHHHHIIII Insidious was spot on. Rabid was just 👌👌 mmm and I've just realized how good you are at capturing a character's pov, like Atsumu's was on the money for capturing the confusion and unsettling feeling and it was so effective i feel like 👀😳 @ hinata now lmaoo

I WAS THE LAST ASK TALKING ABOUT POVS BUT I FORGOT SOMETHIIINGG. DAICHI'S POV. DAICHI'S POVVVV 👏👏👏 I could feel myself feeling his frustration and anger (I wanted him to whip oikawa's ass so bad fr) and his piecing together of things made me feel so awful and anxious, but like in a good way!! Writing is suppose to make you feel things and your fics always, always accomplish that 🤍

ahh nonnie, thank you so much! i like to get inside of the character’s head and fuck with their emotions and stuff, it’s super fun so i’m glad you guys enjoy it!! ily!! <3

oo Hinata as a yandere is so scary bc he's so sweet and caring. BUt he's also sincere and earnest about everything and who's to say that passion won't carry into darker activities 👀

you get it anon haha. he’s honestly a little terrifying but i still want him to spit in my mouth y’know??

i just finished reading insidiuous--it was FANTASGTIC SHDFJDSHFJ the way that atsumu crossed a line he couldn't come back from and was just,,,, rightfully consumed with shame for it?? that was great. also loved reading how hinata knew what he was doing and was doing it purposely, but poor reader. my heart goes out to reader.

thank you so much, bby!! i’m glad you liked it <33

God, you have no idea how much I loved Rabid. I read it probably like 5 times in a row the first time. How do you imagine what happens to reader afterwards? I wonder if he’d end up taking her back to his place, or how does he interact with her afterwards? I’m sorry if this is annoying, I’m just so in love with the story 🥺💕

ahh thank you so much! as for what happens afterwards, you’re definitely kyoutani’s girl. if you think he’s just gonna let you go back to your place, keep working your job, you’ve got another thing coming. he tries to be gentle. a good boyfriend. he’ll definitely pick up on you shaking after he’s finished up; but he’ll misinterpret it as you being cold and make you wear his jacket haha.

Have u permanently closed commissions?

not necessarily, just taking a break :))

#rhi answers 💕#fic q's #ask #also today has been a fucking day y'know #i'm still mad but it's fine

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